


A Christmas eve to remember...

by ionia



Category: Batman (Comics), DC Animated Universe (Timmverse), DCU (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Party, Established Relationship, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, M/M, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28285017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionia/pseuds/ionia
Summary: Christmas eve (and morning) in the DCU, featuring Tim drinking Tea, Damian asking for whipped cream on his hot chocolate, Diana being a big sister to Clark, and Alfred’s creaky bones on Christmas morning.A superbat focused story that follows various characters in the dc universe on their night as they learn a little, live a little, and love the season a little more.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, minor Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent - Relationship
Comments: 14
Kudos: 63





	A Christmas eve to remember...

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to beta-readers [eLOCIn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eLOCIn/pseuds/eLOCIn) and [Charlie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky_Charlie_Tango925/pseuds/Lucky_Charlie_Tango925)
> 
> Merry Christmas and happy Holidays to all and I hope you enjoy this!

**~~**~~**~~**

****

**_Clark_ **

The hustle and bustle was louder than normal when Clark finally arrived back at the office at 5 pm after half a day outside chasing leads for a story. He had returned from a week in outer space only hours before, and he really needed something for his article or Perry would have his head. Who would have thought it was hard to get people to talk when they were in a rush to get home for Christmas and it was cold outside? At least Clark had gotten some fresh air, and his cheeks were tinged pink from the excitement.

In the bullpen, most of his co-workers were already packing up or frantically typing to finish their last assignments, before heading off to the cafeteria and the largest meeting room where the snacks and drinks had been set up. It truly was as hectic as if there was another active alien invasion. As Clark reached his desk and set down his messenger bag to retrieve his laptop, Lois popped up next to him, together with Jimmy.

“Clark! Back right on time,” she said and placed a reindeer antlers headband over his hair, almost knocking off his glasses in the process.

“Lois, jeez,” he smiled awkwardly, took off his glasses and quickly pushed them back on straight.

“Now you fit right in. Although, the sweater was already the worst of everyone’s here.” Jimmy pointed at Clark’s colourful wool attire. He and Lois were also dressed for the occasion, complete with tinsel, and little Christmas trees dangling from Lois’ ears.

“Thanks Jim, it was made by my ma.”

Lois snorted. “That old thing, Clark? Can’t you ask Martha to knit you a new one some time?”

“But this one is so comfy…” His favourite, actually. He just wore it today because Bruce had practically banned it from the manor.

“Please tell me you’re almost done with those boring feel-good interviews,” Jimmy whined. “The party is about to start.”

“I really just need to transcribe today’s work. I might just finish it up tomorrow.”

“On Christmas day? Poor you.”

“Hey, the news doesn’t report itself,” Lois cut in.

Clark looked around to make sure no one else was in the room, cocked his head. “It does if it’s Superman.” All three of them laughed.

“Anyway, I’ll leave you guys to it. Come find me by the punch bowl,” Jimmy winked as he walked away.

Lois sat down on Clark’s desk, next to his laptop. He opened his document and pulled out his recorder to listen back to his interviews.

“How does Jon like it in Gotham?” Lois rested her head in her hand, was playing with one of Clark’s pens.

“Not sure, actually. I haven’t been at the manor all day. A couple days.”

“Everything okay?”

“Oh. Yes! Yes, just outer space mission, is all.” He looked up at her. “You know how it goes.”

“I do.” So many times he’d had to leave her alone. She didn’t deserve it.

“I’ll bring him over tomorrow after dinner. You’ll be home, right?”

“Just got a little get-together with the girls, but yeah. You should be good.”

“I’ll make sure we arrive the normal way then,” Clark smiled.

“Um,” Lois seemed to hesitate, and that almost never happened. “We missed you last year. I think Jon really wants to celebrate with both of us.”

“It would be better for him, huh?”

“Hey, maybe for us too, Smallville.” Her smile was wry. Eventually, they would, Clark was sure.

“We could do something on boxing day. Go ice skating together or something?” Clark proposed.

“He’s been talking about it forever.” Lois ran a hand through her hair, messing it up. “I just haven’t had time.”

“Then we’ll make time.”

“Yes,” Lois sighed. “Thank you, Clark.” She leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

“You too, Lo.” Clark finished up his document at superspeed, put his stuff away, and together they made their way to the cafeteria.

The party was already in full swing when they got there. Silver and red tinsel adorned almost every surface and decorated the windowsills. A large artificial tree stood in the far corner, next to the table with drinks. Perry welcomed them, glass of whiskey in hand, that he had definitely got from his own office, because it wasn’t on the menu. At least Perry was in good spirits, which meant everyone had made their Christmas deadlines.

The party dragged on slowly, a Christmassy jazz assortment playing over the speakers, and chatter amicable. Some people had already gone home to have dinner with their families. Nothing much happened around the mistletoe, and Clark highly doubted this would be one to remember. He was just about to leave as well, couldn’t find Lois anymore but Jimmy was still taking pictures of everyone, when a familiar heartbeat entered the building, and got louder in his ears as its owner rode the elevator to the Daily Planet’s floor. Clark raised his glass to his mouth to hide a smile.

Admittedly, for a room full of reporters, it took a while before anyone had noticed Bruce Wayne walking into the room. Once they did, commotion started quickly. Jimmy whipped his head and camera around to flash a couple of pictures, and Clark would really have to get his hands on those. Bruce was wearing a pinstripe, impeccable suit, unopened bottle of whiskey in hand, and to top it off, a Santa hat. They made eye contact quickly, briefly, like always. _Everything good._

From his corner while chatting with Janey, Clark could hear Bruce saying “Perry! You’re keeping it all for yourself again? I’ll just put this one out for everyone then.” Bruce made a show out of putting his bottle on the table between the cheap drinks and plastic cups, clapped Perry on the shoulder. Perry grumbled something but was probably happy that the planet’s biggest financial benefactor had actually shown up, even though Brucie gave him headaches every other week. The man could pretend all he wanted, but for a strict and overworked editor, he had a soft heart, and truly wanted the best for his employees. And Bruce made that possible.

_“Clark.”_ Whisper in his ear from three rooms away, but he heard it without having to focus. He hadn’t noticed Bruce leave, wrapped up in conversation with Steve, who just wouldn’t shut up. An excuse was easily made. Lots of practice for that around here, and most of his co-workers probably assumed he had sensitive bowels by now.

The bullpen was dark now, deserted, save for Bruce sticking out from between the separators adorning most of the desks. Hearing no other heartbeats around, Clark supersped over to Bruce and found himself pulled into an embrace, a kiss, before he even realized.

“Hey... Didn't expect you here,” he whispered, not quite out of breath, but close.

“I had some time. Just came from a charity event, Alfred dropped me off,” Bruce explained. In the distance, Clark could hear the car speeding away towards Gotham, Dick chatting amusedly to Alfred in the front seat, as if he were still a kid.

“Remind me to thank him later,” he murmured into Bruce’s neck.

“Your parents arrived earlier today.”

Clark lifted his head off Bruce’s shoulder again to look him in the eye. “Good. Everything okay? Was pa okay after the flight?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. All settled in. Martha was already bickering with Alfred about tomorrow before we left.”

“Thank you, Bruce.”

“No problem.” Bruce kissed him again. They were stumbling around each other, touching, kissing. Clark pushed Bruce towards the wall behind his desk and against it. Bruce flipped them around and pushed back, removed Clark’s glasses. The building was old, the windows small, even this high up, but the moonlight lit up half of Bruce’s face in a familiar blue, his eyes dark and grey and entirely focused on Clark. “I missed you,” Bruce admitted, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” Darn space-missions. 

“Yeah,” another kiss. Clark’s _missed you too_ was lost between them as he hoisted Bruce up, and Bruce wrapped his legs around Clark’s waist. He planted Bruce on his desk and twirled the white tip of his hat between his fingers.

“This is a nice touch.”

“Dick put it on my head just before pushing me out of the car. Couldn't exactly take it off anymore.”

“Obviously.”

Bruce’s eyebrow shot up, indicating the antlers still on Clark’s head. “What's your excuse?”

“Christmas spirit? Lois practically attacked me with it.” The small bells decorating the thing tingled faintly as Clark shook his head in laughter.

Bruce huffed. “You look ridiculous.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s been a week.” Bruce looked up at him. “I’ll take what I can get.” He drew Clark in by the nape of his neck for a much slower kiss this time. Clark breathed in deep. Bruce’s skin was warm underneath his jacket and dress shirt, his scent overwhelming. Cologne and a hint of rusted metal from working in the cave earlier that would be missed by an ordinary human.

Clark made his way down Bruce’s neck. Stolen moments. They had to take what they could, between the missions, work, and the never-ending battle. 

“You…” Clark kissed Bruce’s jaw, “going to the JL party tonight?”

“Can't. Patrol.”

“Just for a bit? I'm sure Barry, Hal, and J'onn worked hard on it.”

A short denying hum and Bruce shut him up with his mouth on Clark’s. He wanted it to go further. They both did. But it was not the time, not the place. With a bit of luck, they’d have tomorrow morning to themselves.

“I'll go for a bit,” he leaned his forehead against Bruce’s. “…and come keep you company in Gotham after.”

“Okay,” Bruce whispered. 

“Yeah...” he kissed Bruce again, and for a while, that was the only sound, together with the tingling of the small bells on Clark’s antlers. Until Bruce yanked them off his head.

“Morning. In the morning,” Bruce breathed. Clark nodded. He listened to the building and the city around them, Bruce’s calming heartbeat. Further still, he could hear families laughing, clinking glasses around tables, and children running and giggling. Long ago, he had thought he’d have that too, with Jon. Another responsibility besides the safety of the world. Reality was different. _Evil doesn’t rest,_ as Bruce said.

Clark loved the season and everything with it, but ever since he’d reached adulthood, he barely had the time to stand still and enjoy it. Bruce understood. Had always understood. He felt him squeeze his hand, and he prayed to Rao that the world would leave them alone for a change, so that they could spend Christmas together with their families.

Bruce got up. “I could use a lift to the nearest zeta platform.” A question by Bruce’s standards, Clark knew. 

“Of course,” he said, reached out a hand. Bruce took it, and off they were, again.

*******

**_Damian_ **

Damian didn’t understand much of this season, still. Father had tried to show him but clearly felt uncomfortable himself. Until last year. He had hoped it wouldn’t get much worse than that, but now the whole manor was full, filled with people, and red and green tinsel that Kent had put up everywhere. He could handle his brothers and sister, and of course the Kents, but all of them at once… They teased him about every little thing. It was annoying. Tiring, he’d almost say.

Now, he was wandering the halls, trying to sneak his way down to the cave without anyone noticing him. Alas, just as he thought he could make a run for the study he heard his name coming from one of the living rooms. He stopped and looked at the company inside.

“Why don’t you come play with us, Damian?” Martha asked. She, Johnathan, and Jon were seated around the small green gaming table, laying out pieces and cards onto a board that was undoubtedly Risk.

“Pff. I’d beat you all in minutes.”

“No, you wouldn’t! I’m _so_ good at this,” Jon piped up. He got up and made his way over to Damian, tried to take his hand and drag him inside, but Damian was too quick. 

“I’m not playing anyway. I need to get ready on time before father returns.” He started walking again. The Kents probably wouldn’t say anything. It was Pennyworth and Richard he had to worry about the most and they weren’t home yet.

“I thought you weren’t going on patrol tonight,” Jon said behind him. When exactly did he start hovering? He was following him and Damian hadn’t heard a thing.

“Stop following me. And Gotham doesn’t wait. We need to protect the city every night.” Damian reached to turn the dials of the clock in the study and opened it to get into the cave. He used the firemen’s pole, because it was efficient, and admittedly, a little more fun than the stairs. To his annoyance, Jon jumped after him and landed gracelessly beside him on the rock floor.

“Miscalculated,” he said apologetically.

Damian sighed and switched on some more lights in the cave.

“You can just go in here on your own?”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Of course I can.”

He walked around, made his way over to the lockers to get his uniform. 8 pm. Father would be here shortly. He’d just have to take in some carbs and then they would be on their way.

“Your dad said he would do patrol alone tonight, didn’t he? Come play games with us.”

“No. He needs me out there.” Damian had seen right through it, all pretences. Him staying home was only for school nights, so, not tonight.

“Nuh-uh. My dad said Gotham is dangerous and we need to listen to Batman.”

“Just because he does, doesn’t mean _we_ have to,” Damian said calmly. He sat down on one of the benches to take off his shoes and start getting dressed. Jon sat down next to him. “Hey. You’re like my little brother now.” He squeezed Damian’s elbow. “Gotta watch out for you.”

Damian whipped his head up to Jon. “ _I’m_ older.”

“But I’m taller.”

Damian huffed and looked at Jon. “At least I’m not the youngest in this family anymore.”

Jon stuck out his tongue and Damian swatted him away, but right at that moment, a small alarm beeped, and the zeta platform lit up. Father materialized, still wearing his pinstripe suit, but his dress shirt was ruffled at the collar. He stoically made his way through the cave, threw a set of deer antlers onto the computer dashboard, and then spotted Damian and Jon.

“Jon. Damian,” father said as he walked past them, picking up Damian’s uniform in the process and putting it back. The audacity. He opened up another locker and pulled out his own winter cape and a thermal under-suit. Damian followed him.

“Father. I wish to go on patrol with you.”

“It’s Christmas, Damian. Aren’t you watching movies with your brothers and sister upstairs?”

“It all bores me.”

“But Risk doesn’t,” Jon exclaimed.

“Board games. Good idea.”

Jon had always stammered a little bit when talking to father, but that was finally going away. At least he didn’t call him ‘sir’ anymore. “Yeah, with grandma and grandpa. And we were just about to go back upstairs.” He tugged on Damian’s arm.

“It’s important you spend time with your family, Damian.”

“Father…” Damian started, but he wasn’t sure what to say next. Father was out on Christmas, like almost every year before. Then how was he supposed to spend this time with his family?

“Damian, come here.” Jon let go of his arm and Bruce planted him in front of himself. He was seated, his eyes level with Damian’s. “I’m not the right example. Look up at your siblings.” He was quiet for a moment. “Besides, it’s cold out there. Most criminals stay home, we don’t have any major active cases. It’s going to be a boring night, most likely.”

Damian yawned. It had already been a quite tiresome day, building snowmen outside, and then winning together with Jon and Cassandra and Kara in the mega-biggest snowball fight he’d ever been in. Pennyworth had made too much food, and they had eaten it all. But before Damian could speak again, they were interrupted.

“Hey little nerds, come watch Bad Santa with us. Oh, hi Bruce,” Todd almost yelled as he walked down the stairs.

“Jason. Is that an appropriate movie for them?” Bruce got up and walked over to pull him into a half hug.

“Yeah. Totally,” Jason shrugged. Todd was a bad liar, but father didn’t call him out on it. “Come on, back upstairs with you two. You can reach us if you need any help, old man.” He tapped his ear.

From the stairs, Damian could still see father putting on his cowl and raising his hand to Todd in a sign of recognition before he sped away in the batmobile.

The big living room with the tree had many couches and chairs, but most of them were taken, all facing the large tv. When Damian asked why they weren’t in the theatre, Cassandra simply replied _more cosy here_ and pulled him into a hug. He wondered if Drake would have laughed from his place next to Kon-El if he hadn’t made the face he was making.

“How about a blanket for you two?” Kara asked, and spread one out on the floor. Jon hopped on right away, rolling onto his stomach and facing the tv. What kind of people watched a movie like that? Damian simply opted to sit down cross-legged and with a straight back, like he used to do with mother when they studied or drank tea.

Jon’s grandparents walked in just as Todd was about to start the movie. “Here you two are,” Martha said. “Do you still want to… Oh Jon, your socks!” Damian looked at Jon’s feet next to him. They were indeed very grimy from the cave floor. Jon looked up too, a little stunned.

“Oh… is that why you wear shoes in your own house…”

“Come change them, you can’t walk around in those.”

“Martha,” Jonathan shook his head. “Leave the boy, Clark walked around in dirty socks all the time.”

“This house is not a farm, Johnathan.”

In the hall, the loud squeak of the large front door could be heard, and a swoosh of wind outside. Richard and Pennyworth entered the room only a moment later. They said their hellos, Richard rubbed his hands and ruffled Damian’s hair like he always did when he visited the manor.

Martha hugged Richard and kissed his cheeks. “Oh my you guys are cold! Who wants some hot chocolate?”

Damian wasn’t the first one to raise his hand - that was definitely Jon - but he did ask for extra whipped cream in a hushed tone so only Martha could hear it.

*******

**_Diana_ **

Far away from Gotham, up in space where it was neither day nor night, Diana arrived at the watchtower. It was already buzzing with leaguers, lively, and more decorated than it had ever been in those first quiet years. The large tree was filled with ornaments in different themes and there were candles in a kinara, and a menorah atop a decorated table loaded with food and appetizers.

She wandered around, found Firestorm and Red Tornado on monitor duty and bickering over some tv channel to watch in the background. She greeted them quickly and made sure their back-ups were around should anything happen.

In the cafeteria, she saw one of the Lanterns, Atom, and Vixen working on something that looked like a bowl of punch, while Oliver was off in the corner adding cream to some small desserts in utmost concentration. None of them noticed her and she walked past quietly, down the hallway. Before she reached the main hall with the tree, she stopped. Looked out the large windows into space and down at earth. Themyscira was far away, as were the years that she didn’t celebrate. She had experienced many Christmases in man’s world now, all different. When Steve had first shown her, she had been mesmerized. Not just by the light, the food, and the festivities, but the warmth and compassion that humans were capable of. It showed her a world she wanted to be a part of, wanted to help. And a man she fell in love with, only to know that she would long outlive him.

She spotted Clark’s reflection in the window before he landed beside her and turned around to face him.

“Diana, merry Christmas.” He kissed her cheek, nodded approvingly at the Christmas themed sweater that covered her uniform. Clark reminded her of Steve in many ways. Heart on their sleeve, but secrets and mysteries too many too count. 

“Kal, what did you do with this thing? Fly around in space?” His Santa hat looked like it had been trampled on, unfit for a founding member. There was a time for battle and a time for social functions, and this was clearly the latter.

“Oh, this…” He cleared his throat and took it off, dusted it with a quick motion of his hand and gave it back its shape. “Better?”

“Hmm. Yeah,” she said as she flopped the tip around to the other side. “Merry Christmas.”

Down the hallway, she could hear the party fully getting started as she and Clark talked. The JL did it quite big now, low funky lights between the decorations and loud music of everyone’s preference. Mistletoe in the main doorway and drinks on every table. In the early years of the league it had been more intimate. They did secret Santa and dinner and some would stay behind and talk all night as they didn’t have family to celebrate with. Diana had liked that better. Tomorrow night at Lois’ place would probably be more of her taste.

Barry zipped past but stopped when he spotted both of them and gave them a hug. “Hey, big blue, where’s your boo?”

“My… boo?”

“Spooky,” Hal breathed as he caught up with Barry. “You guys are practically attached at the hip lately.”

“Oh,” Clark chuckled. “He’s on patrol. You know he can’t take a night off.”

“Figures.”

“Classic party pooper,” Barry said before running off again. A corner of Hal’s mouth lifted up and he indicated Barry’s direction with his thumb before turning around and lifting off to go after him.

Clark turned his attention back to Diana after watching them leave. “Heh. Younglings.”

“Clark,” Diana laughed. “You’re not that much older than them.”

“Ehh,” Clark shrugged. The others hadn’t seen it, but Clark had been fidgeting with the edge of his cape when they talked about Batman. She should ask him about Bruce more some other time. Watch him squirm a bit. Bruce too. He couldn’t lie to her, even without the lasso.

Right now, though, it was time for celebration and a good drink. “Come on, Kyle made the punch this time. Probably much better than yours last year.”

“Rao, I know.” Clark rubbed his neck. “I’m just bad at tasting alcohol. Oh, I have to log my report from the past week. Find you later?”

“Bruce?”

“You know how he is.”

“I do.”

An apologetic smile and Clark was off in the direction of the monitor womb. Diana finally made her way to the rest of the party, where she was greeted by Zatanna and Dinah, who pulled her right onto the dance floor. The other women hugged her, Vixen joined them and wished them all merry Christmas, a glass of champagne appeared in her hand. However much she liked the old days better, she was grateful for all the friends she had made since living among mankind, and regarded them in much the same way as her Amazonian sisters.

When Diana finally made her way over to the punch bowl, there was only eggnog left, and most of Oliver’s desserts had disappeared or been smeared of their whipped cream. She sighed and looked around. Clark was talking to Hawkgirl and Steel over by the tree, and high up in the watchtower, J’onn had joined Firestorm and Red in their bickering over the tv channel. On the dance floor, Metamorpho astonished everyone with some new techniques, that even Arthur was impressed by. And under the mistletoe, Blue Beetle finally kissed Booster Gold.

*******

**_Jim Gordon_ **

It was quiet in the police station, the few officers on shift were huddled around one desk, sharing coffee, tea, and homemade Christmas cookies that Harvey’s wife had brought by earlier that day. Outside on the streets, snow fell, as carols rang through the air, and a chubby red-nosed man in a Santa suit wobbled down the icy sidewalk, bell in his hand swinging happily along. Some passers-by were still rushing to get home with large boxes under their arms.

Jim was logging some final cases on his computer, and had merely gotten up to get another coffee. Truth was, he could go home. Should go home. He wasn’t on call. The Joker was still in Arkham when he had called to check five minutes ago. But there was just nothing worth going home for anymore. He would be greeted by an empty couch in a cold living room.

Ten o’clock. He grabbed his coat and made his way up to the roof.

The coffee was warm, steaming, and mixed with his breaths in the cold night air. He didn’t turn on the light but waited anyway. At 10.05 pm, there was rustling behind him, and heavy boots landed quietly in the snow. One pair. No Robin tonight.

“Good evening,” he said into the mug and turned around. Batman stood tall across from him, cape covering his shoulders and arms.

“Got anything?”

“We had a call on domestic violence, but it’s been dealt with. Some robberies. It’s a quiet night.” Christmas in Gotham.

“Yet you’re here.”

“Someone has to tell you to go celebrate Christmas at home with your family.” Batman and family? Maybe with Robin. Batgirl, the others. He couldn’t picture it. He wasn’t even sure if Batman celebrated. “Though something tells me I’m not the first one.”

“You’re not.” Batman paused. “I could say the same to you.”

“I’m better off here than at home.”

“Your daughter seems to disagree.”

“Barbara? She’s always busy. Been so reclused, ever since…” Ever since Joker. Batman didn’t let him finish. He just nodded, the usual harsh lines of his mouth softened, turned around and walked to the edge of the roof. “Merry Christmas, Jim.”

He was already on the fire-escape and partway down when Jim mumbled a confused _you too._

Back inside the office, the lights were dimmed, the place deserted save for the night guard and a receptionist. The song of a drunkard sounded through the halls. He made his way to the break room, where laughter rumbled around the poorly decorated tree.

“Hey Jim, you’ve heard this story, right?”

“Depends.” Jim set down his coffee cup on the counter. “Does it involve you, Clyde? ‘That case I can understand the laughs.”

Now the other officers snickered. Jim shook his head. Night shift. At least they kept the place afloat. He raised his hand to them in greeting and wished them happy holidays before leaving the room.

As he sat down by the dimmed light at his desk again, he considered calling Arkham once more, phone in his hand. He put it down. Just a couple more files and he’d go home. At 10.34 pm, his phone beeped, indicating a message.

_Hi dad, let myself in. Have you had something decent to eat? - Barbara_

Must have used her old key. Did Batman know? He either knew his daughter better than Jim himself or his hand reached further than Jim thought. He smiled. Either way, those files could wait till after the weekend.

On his way home through the snow, he shuffled, braced himself against the wind, the walk to the subway longer than usual, but a shortcut down an alley and a set of stairs made it bearable. He looked up, at the lights and past the buildings, at the ever-present clouds. A dark figure graced the ledge of one of the buildings, crouched down and serious, but his chin caught light as he looked up higher still. Superman floated down – a rare sight, but no one seemed to notice. Too busy looking down at the cracks in the street. At the ice. Superman was adorned by a red Santa hat that complimented his cape, but it was quickly grabbed by Batman to be pocketed. A gloved hand lingered on Superman’s bare one. At least, Jim liked to think his sight was pretty good through thick-rimmed glasses. 

A particularly icy gust of wind brought him back to focus on the snow underneath his boots, ducking his head and raising his collar to shield himself. It was time he’d head home and put some gifts under the tree for Barbara and himself. See what she would cook up for dinner. After all, what could happen on Christmas in Gotham when under the protection of Batman _and_ Superman?

*******

**_Tim_ **

Tim was wearing track pants, a hoodie, and warm socks, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a steaming mug of tea between his hands, but he was still cold. Bruce should really get some heating installed down here. If not for his sidekicks, then at least for Alfred. Maybe it wouldn’t be ideal for the bats though, Tim thought as he heard a small shriek far above him. The cave was never silent. Constant whirring of the servers, flapping of wings, and slowly dripping drops of water in the distance. At first, it had been distracting, and Tim had found it hard to concentrate, but he had learned to tune it out and work with it over time, gotten used to it. His bedroom was too silent – and now too loud – so he came down here.

He’d had an epiphany about a case involving a possible new synthetic drug while watching movies upstairs. Two bodies and Cass and himself hadn’t made much progress. No familiar patterns, a new player. Or worse, a nobody. He twisted around in Bruce’s chair, knew he was stuck again. He just needed that one step, one missing piece. He admired Cass’s calmness and ability to hang back upstairs, but also knew it hadn’t always been like that. That Barbara had often had to tell her to wait. Now, she knew exactly when to strike.

A light indicating Batman’s presence blinked on one of the screens and seconds later the roar of the batmobile echoed through to the belly of the cave. The car came to a standstill on its platform, the roof slid open and Bruce _and_ Clark jumped out. Tim spun around on the chair once more to face them.

“Hey, Tim,” Clark greeted.

“He let you ride along in the batmobile?”

“I’m sure he’ll let me drive it if I just keep trying hard enough.”

“Never,” said Bruce as he pulled off his cowl and made his way up to the computer.

“See? He’s starting to crack,” Clark whispered to Tim.

“What are you doing down here, Tim?” Bruce set down his cowl on the console and leaned over Tim’s shoulder to look at the screens.

“Working on that double-body-case,” he mumbled. His tea had gone cold in his hands, still half full.

Bruce hummed and assessed his progress, while Clark disappeared to a corner over by the med bay. Bruce put a hand on his shoulder. “Take a break. Maybe we’ll have some time tomorrow.”

Was this coming out of Bruce? He must have fallen asleep and be dreaming this.

“It’s 3 am, aren’t you supposed to be not-sleeping with your friends upstairs?” Bruce started again. “Or whatever it is you do on sleep-overs.” Hmm. Not dreaming.

“Probably…”

Just then Clark turned up seemingly out of nowhere with a small electric heater. “Bruce might want to torture himself in the winter, but you kids have to stay warm.” He directed a pointed look at Bruce, who turned around and walked away to the dressing rooms.

“I didn’t know we had one.” As soon as Clark turned it on, the thing whirred to life and Tim felt the heat.

“Got it a couple weeks ago. I want you to go up to bed, though, okay?”

Tim sighed. “Yes, dad.”

Clark blushed and ruffled his hair, to which Tim had to push a couple long strands out of his eyes again. He hesitated. “Dick told me that when he was young, he actually thought you were his other dad.”

“If only he’d told _us_ that,” Clark sighed.

“Of course, then you might not have had Jon to keep Damian out of my hair.”

“Hmm, yeah. I couldn’t imagine a world without him.”

“Oh hey. These yours? I can’t imagine Bruce bringing this down here.” Tim held up the headband with fluffy antlers that he’d found earlier on top of the console.

“Oh yes, I lost them. Thanks. Hey Bruce.” Clark turned around to Bruce over by the change room, now dressed in just his thermal underwear covered by an old black robe. “Found them.” Clark wiggled his eyebrows to Tim’s adoptive dad, and really, Tim did not want to know. All he wanted right now was to crack this case, but maybe it would be better to take a break. He stared at the screen. The heater made him warm and sleepy, and the flapping of the bats had quieted down again after the arrival of the batmobile. In the distance, he heard Clark and Bruce bickering quietly. It was quickly becoming another one of those ever-present sounds in the cave. _Upstairs. Too cold here,_ Bruce answered gruffly when Clark asked him where he wanted to shower, and they were off. Tell me about it, Tim thought.

He shut everything down and followed them up the stairs slowly, blanket still on his shoulders and dragging behind him. If Alfred asked, he’d just make up some excuse about Titus.

In his bedroom, Conner and Jason were playing video games, and in his absence, Cass had joined them, and now sat on his bedroom floor on the blanket from her own bed.

“Timbo! You just missed Conner _literally_ falling on his face,” Jason exclaimed, still laughing. “You should have seen it. Where were you?”

“Breaking my head over a case.” He rubbed his temples and made his way through snacks, wrappers, papers, and books on the floor over to where Kon was sitting on the large bean bag.

“Wait,” said Cass. “They will come out tomorrow. We will be there.”

“They?” He looked over at her past Kon.

Cass nodded resolutely. Two perpetrators. This is why he needed her. He leaned back and against Kon, who wrapped an arm around him and continued his Mario Kart race against Jason.

“Dude, your room is so messy. I couldn’t even catch myself or I would have either broken your model of Albamba or your laptop.”

“Al _hambra_. Is it still okay?”

“Yes, look.” Kon pointed with one hand and pouted. Next to the tv, the model stood unstirred and peaceful. In front of it, a path had been cleared between clothes and papers. Tim was sure it wasn’t normally that bad. Half of the clothes were Kon’s, anyway.

“You know you can fly, right?”

Conner groaned. “Too slow,” he muttered.

“Pretty sure I heard him fart too, while he fell,” Jason said. Cass nodded at him again when Tim looked questioningly at her. Kon was red around the ears, pouting.

“You need a kiss on your booboo or something?”

“No.”

“Gross.” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Shush off to your own room then, Jay.”

“Uh, no. I promised Cass to paint her nails.”

“Trees on the thumbs.” Cassandra held up her hands for Jason, who forgot all about the Nintendo, so Tim used the opportunity to grab his controller.

“As you wish, sis.” He positioned herself in front of Cass, and while they quieted down, Tim beat Conner three times at Mario Kart, until Conner finally gave up with a grunt and told Tim to _just sleep already._ Really, that was all he wanted, so he climbed up to his bed, and if Conner joined him instead of lying down on his own makeshift bed, that was okay. He still gave him that kiss when his siblings weren’t looking.

*******

**_Bruce_ **

“It’s Christmas tomorrow.” Behind him, Clark sounded surprised, as if he hadn’t spent all night flying around in a red and white hat.

“4 am, Clark,” he read off the digital clock on the nightstand. “ ‘s today.” By the time Clark had arrived in Gotham, Bruce had already stopped a mugging and aided two people that crashed in the snow. Together, they had kept watch over the city as it went to sleep blanketed in white. It had been a long night, and now, after a much-needed warm shower, Bruce was huddled in the blankets, protected from the cold. Ready to sleep.

Clark flopped onto his back. “We’ve been together for a year.” Underneath the covers, he was trying to grab his hand. Bruce turned around.

“What, you count that dumb little kiss under the mistletoe as the start of our relationship?” In the dark, it came out harsher than he had intended, but Clark just made a disapproving noise.

“It wasn’t dumb. You floored me.”

“Because you didn’t see it coming.” Clark had already been surprised to see the full pack of Waynes in Kansas, but had stood frozen in the hallway for a full 3 minutes with a hot casserole in his bare hands after Bruce had pecked him on the mouth while shrugging off his coat. Most of the kids had laughed, Bruce had to tell everyone multiple times that it was because of the mistletoe that he simply couldn’t ignore, and Alfred had been smug about it for the rest of the week back in Gotham.

A rub of Clark’s thumb over his hand pulled him out of his thoughts. “So, what’s the start to you?” Clark asked.

“New Year’s Eve. Not forced by mistletoe.”

“Our first date,” Clark hummed.

“You brought me junk food.”

“Hey, you try to find something healthy that's open in Gotham just minutes before they drop the ball.” Fair enough. In the faint red light from the clock, he could see Clark’s eyes shimmer with a smile. “You tasted like ketchup and salt.” And still, Clark lit up an impossible warmth inside of him. It had barely been a year and he couldn’t imagine him not in his life. Truly, a weakness. But one that he tried to afford himself.

“That’s the one.”

“Hmm.” Clark kissed him on his temple, something he did a lot now on nights that Bruce was already asleep, and even on the ones that Bruce came to bed long after him. “Are all the presents under the tree?”

Bruce moved his head in a nod that he knew Clark could see. Damian had helped, of all people present in the house. Together with Jon. It was good to see him act his age and be excited about the gifts.

“Sorry I wasn’t there to help.”

He pushed Clark’s hair back. “It’s okay. Our line of work.” Clark grabbed his hand and nodded. They stayed like that for a while, Bruce slowly combing through Clark’s hair and Clark’s hand keeping him there, drifting off to sleep.

“Are you cold?” Clark asked suddenly.

Bruce pulled the blanket higher up over his shoulders. He wasn’t really, but Clark was quick. “You’ve been outside in the snow for four hours. C’mere.” Clark turned him back around, away from himself, and pulled him close, nose in his neck. Immediately Bruce felt the heat of Clark’s body enveloping him. In Clark’s arms, he felt safe, not trapped like before. _An anchor._

“My home,” Clark said.

“I say that out loud?” Bruce mumbled. He felt Clark nod. Hmm, should pay more attention. The house was quiet around them and dormant, as if it wasn't the fullest it had ever been. Like it had been when it was just Bruce and Alfred. Before the children, before his travels, and Alfred had tried so hard, really, but it hadn't been the same as unwrapping presents with his parents under the tree or lighting the candles in the menorah on Hanukkah with his mother.

He had forgotten what it was like to be so excited about Christmas that you were unable to sleep the night before until Dick came into his life and kept him up long after Robin's bedtime. Clark had been there, still so few between them, both of them -in hindsight- still rookies at the job, and had taken some of that helplessness off of him in a way only he could.

If only he'd known, back then.

Still, Bruce couldn't help but be cautious to enjoy things. One slip-up could cost them.

“Come to the orphanage with me tomorrow,” he whispered. He’d wear his red cashmere, white blouse underneath. Hopefully, Clark had brought something a little less abominable than his old Christmas sweater.

“Really? I’d love that,” Clark breathed into his hair.

“Love you, too,” Bruce mumbled. Mere inch away from dreams and mind foggy, he squeezed Clark’s arm, who hugged him impossibly closer, pulling him into sleep.

*******

**_Alfred_ **

At seven a.m. sharp, Alfred shut down his alarm with a well-aimed click and threw back his covers immediately. Better to get through the morning cold quickly. Getting up and out of bed was already getting hard enough, especially in the winter season.

 _Bruce Wayne seen at Daily Planet office Christmas party, Superman spotted in Gotham,_ said the morning news on the radio while Alfred was getting dressed. A smile tugged at his mouth as he combed and waxed his pencil moustache.

On his way downstairs, he picked up a stray Santa hat and pair of deer antlers from the banister of the grand staircase, fixed some of the tinsels that had come down. The house was still quiet, and cold, but soon the Kents would wake up, and the young lads would probably not be far behind, ready to open their presents. In the living room, the tree stood tall and dark as the sky outside still was. Hat and antlers nicely strung up in the tree, Alfred made his way around to plug in the lights. He had to bend down and get on his knees, almost considered waiting for the boys, but he would do this for as long as he damn well could. The house should be ready before its inhabitants started waking up.

He fluffed up the pillows on the couches, folded the various blankets, and picked up some popcorn from the floor. In the corner on the table, a game of Risk had been paused in the middle. Better leave that the way it was.

In the kitchen, he found Mr. Kent waiting for him with a cup of coffee. Ah, farm life. He should’ve known.

“Merry Christmas. Hope you don’t mind I used your machine. Took me a minute to figure out, but it’s worth it.” Jonathan hummed appreciatively as he took another sip. Alfred politely declined the cup offered to him.

“Happy Christmas to you as well, Mr. Kent. And that’s quite alright. Please make yourself at home here for the next couple days.”

Jonathan cleared his throat in a borderline disapproving sound. It didn’t stun Alfred. Those were common around here after all.

“Don’t mind him, Alfred. He always has a little trouble leaving the farm in someone else’s care,” Martha said as she walked into the kitchen. “Clark said he’ll fly over tomorrow for a quick check, John.”

“Oh, I understand, Mrs. Kent. I myself always feel slightly… apprehensive when leaving the house in master Bruce’s care.”

Alfred moved to get the tea kettle and start some breakfast for everyone. A lot had to be done for tonight’s dinner, and it was the first time that he had come up with the menu together with Martha. An eclectic mix of turkey, Yorkshire pudding, roasted vegetables, red cabbage, and for dessert, Alfred’s famous Christmas pudding. And Martha’s famous gingerbread cake. They had prepared a lot yesterday, but the vegetables still had to be done today, and the turkey had to go in the oven on time.

“Mister Alfred, can we open our presents?” Jon inched into the kitchen, followed by Damian.

“You can just say Alfred, lad. I’m not sure if I am the right person to ask, but I think it would be nice if you two could wait for the rest to wake up.”

“Told you we shouldn’t have asked,” Damian whispered to Jon.

“Ah, Alf... you know how long that’ll take.” Richard walked in after them, dressed in his pyjama pants and a hoodie.

“Merry Christmas, master Dick. I trust you had a good rest?” Even though he was nearing 24 years of age, Richard was still as excited as when he was a young child.

“I barely slept,” Dick sighed as he set down at the large island, and thanked Jonathan for the cup of coffee he put down in front of him. Ah, just as he thought.

“And is that the fault of Christmas or of endless movies and games?”

Dick groaned. “I was so close to beating Damian at Risk…”

“No, you weren’t.”

Now there were 6 of them in the kitchen, and it was getting quite crowded. Usually, he would send most of them away, but they couldn’t be trusted not to go to their gifts. Damian was already looking somewhat sour and bored, and Jon couldn’t sit still at all.

Thankfully, Martha had a little more experience with a super-powered child. “Kids. Why don’t you help me with breakfast? So Alfred can sit down and drink his tea.” She put her hands on the boys’ shoulders, and Alfred nodded appreciatively to her. He sat down next to Richard, while Jon enthusiastically ran over to the knives, arguing that he should slice the fruit and bread since he couldn’t get hurt and would do it at super speed, but Martha pulled him back quickly and gave him a harmless spatula to use on the pancakes she would mix up instead.

Alfred talked a little bit with Richard and Jonathan and watched Damian across from them. In utter concentration, he was cracking eggs over a bowl, mixing them with a little bit of cream, precisely like Alfred had taught him. When unaware of his surroundings, young master Damian looked a lot like his father had at that age. Proudly, Alfred smiled at him.

Later, they would open presents together, watch _It’s a Wonderful Life_ by the fireplace as master Bruce liked to do ever since Dick had started the tradition with him. Bruce would take some of the children to deliver presents to the orphanage, together with master Clark, as Alfred was happy to find out. He and Martha would stay in the kitchen, while Jonathan started on 13 differently sized snowmen outside and the children helped him. And at dinner, Bruce let Alfred sit at the head of the table, overlooking the one family that they were slowly becoming.

**_The end_ **

**_**~~**~~**~~**_ **


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